


Episode 68: How's it gonna be?

by PitoyaPTx



Series: Clan Meso'a [68]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Clans, Mandalorian Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26655169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitoyaPTx/pseuds/PitoyaPTx
Summary: "We were too late.." ~Teika.The Ordo barely have time to process what's happened when they have to head back to base. [TW: Body horror, blood, broken bones]
Series: Clan Meso'a [68]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1261364
Kudos: 1





	Episode 68: How's it gonna be?

Maceon approached the pod. Fent had his head in his hands, but she couldn’t see Beon yet. She made to call out to him just as he came into view, holding Cara’s body in his arms. Her eyes immediately found the bloody hands now crossed atop her chest, then the girl’s head Beon propped against him.   
“Her neck is broken,” she said, gently pressing her fingers just below Cara’s ear and tracing down to her collarbone, “Beon-”   
“Ordo,” said the Meso’a, startling her.   
She turned around quickly. He was right behind her.   
“You should leave,” he said, “Bury your dead.”   
Movement above them caught her eye, but she didn’t need the thermal vision to see the faint outline of a clawed shoe at the edge of the catwalk above them. She swallowed, her hand drifting to her blaster.  
“Give us a moment,” she said slowly, “We’ll need a stretcher to get her across.”   
He nodded, but didn’t move. Unnerved and feeling as though one wrong move could set off a diplomatic disaster, she switched channels.   
“Get a stretcher here, ASAP,” she barked.   
Beun spun in the chair and got up, “Three minutes, tops,” she said, jogging out into the upper atrium.   
“You’ve got two. It’s about to get real dicey here in a second.”   
Beun slid down the ladder and made for the equipment locker. “Which is why I always come prepared.”   
She pulled out a matt red jetpack and slid it over her shoulders.

The blast doors opened to the dark void interrupted by the speck of light that was Beun and the hover stretcher. She landed softly just inside the bay where Beon, Fent, and Maceon were waiting for her. The Meso’a remained where he was beside Aviila’s body but they could feel his gaze burning into their backs as they sealed Cara inside the pressurized casing. Beun watched the Meso’a as Beon laid Cara down. She felt her arms prickle with unease. Cara might as well be buried, Maceon thought as the lid hissed shut. Neither Beon nor Fent had spoken since they brought her out. Fent had made a sound at one point, but Beon was eerily silent. Once he put her down, he resealed his helmet and checked the diagnostics tab on his wrist display to make sure the inside of his helmet reintegrated properly. His companions watched him, Maceon expecting him to say something but Fent knowing he wouldn’t. He dismissed the tab and looked up at them with a nod. For a moment, he and Beun stared at each other before she nodded back.   
“Let’s go,” she said, taking the front of the stretcher and leading it back out of the bay.   
Fent and Beon took either side, but Maceon hesitated just inside the energy field.   
She balled up her first. “Can I ask you something?”  
The Meso’a regarded her, but from a distance all Maceon could see was a slight tilt to his helmet.   
“Speak.”   
“Was Jecho the only Ordo foundling?”

“Should we try to locate her brother?” Maceon asked. She was leaning against the wall behind Beon, seated beside the medbay bed they’d laid Cara on.   
On the wall, the diagnostics array told them what they already knew: she was dead, having both suffocated and suffered major blunt force trauma. Judging by the shape of the pod, Maceon was surprised she didn’t look worse.   
“I wouldn’t know where to look,” Fent admitted, clearing his throat, “Beon?”  
The Twi’lek nodded absently. He was still staring at Cara’s face. Hey eyes were open and her eyelids were puffy and red; her lips were dark blue and her cheeks had a slight purple hue to them.   
“It was probably quick,” offered Maceon.   
“That really doesn’t help, vod,” Fent sighed into his hands pressed into his face. He shook his head, “Really not helping.”   
“I’m sorry.”   
“It’s fine.”   
“Is it?”   
He shrugged. On Maceon’s right, Teika stirred and pushed himself to his knees to stand. He’d been sitting beside Jecho’s bed, not crying, but starting absently much like Beon was. He made eye contact with Maceon; she offered him her hand, hoisting him up the rest of the way.   
“Thanks,” he said, quickly letting go of her hand and moving between the beds to leave. Fent stood and caught him before he made it to the door.   
“You alright?” he asked.   
The Zabrak took a deep breath. “Not yet,” he said truthfully.   
Fent nodded.   
“You?”  
“Not yet.”   
“We will be.”   
Fent glanced over at Beon. “Yeah. We will.”   
Teika patted Fent’s pauldron then walked out into the hall. Fent sat back down and rested his chin in the crook of his thumbs and pointer fingers, listening to Teika’s footsteps as they trailed away and another set came closer.   
Beun entered the room and studied its occupants. Jecho’s body was already wrapped up and the barrier was activated, sealing her bed from outside contaminants. Cara was wrapped up to her neck, but it didn’t look like they’d assessed her injuries outside of the computer’s preliminary assessment. Beun could see the obvious signs of suffocation, however, and she figured that was enough for now. Maceon got up from the wall when she entered.   
“I’ll head back up,” she said, moving around Beon and quickly walking past both Fent and Beun, who watched her leave.   
“You two still don’t talk,” he said once he figured Maceon was out of earshot.   
“Nothing to talk about.”   
He hummed, his tone that of disbelief. She ignored it.   
“Beon,” she said, crossing her arms.   
He didn’t look up at her right away.   
“Let him be,” said Fent, getting up, “I was about to leave anyways.” He put a hand on her arm but she pushed it away.   
“Beon,” she said again in an almost commanding tone.   
He looked up at her. His amber eyes were hollow and distant, glazed over by thoughts Beun couldn’t read but didn’t have to.   
“Beon-”   
“I found this,” he said, holding up a small silver holodisc. It was slightly dented and had a bloody handprint curled around the underside. “She was holding it.”   
Beun nodded, “Good. It may have information for us.”   
He nodded back, setting it down on the bed. She reached forward and picked it up, turning it in her hands and looking it over.   
“We’ll see what Jiik thinks about it,” she continued, stowing it in a side pouch.   
Again, he nodded. She frowned.   
“Beon, I need your head here for a little while longer.”   
He looked down for a moment, then back over at Cara.   
“Did you hear me?”   
Fent winced. “He heard you, riduur.”   
She held up a hand dismissively. “Did you hear me, Beon?”   
Beon glanced over at her. His jaw tightened for a moment, then it seemed as though the color came back to his eyes. His face became placid. He stood. A part of Fent twinged with pain as his best friend and brother looked as though the day was any other day and left the medbay without another word. Beun followed behind him without waiting for Fent who couldn’t force himself to move. He balled up his fists and clenched his teeth.   
“Why are you like that with him?” he hissed just as Beun reached the ladder.   
She paused and looked back at him, her orange eyes ablaze yet inscrutable from that distance.   
“We’ll talk later,” she said, a hint of frustration in her voice.   
“Oh we will,” he growled to her back as she ascended the ladder. 

Noga’n wanted nothing more than to settle into his bunk, having just been relieved by Beon. He didn’t want to ask why Fent was in the spare bunk. He didn’t want to have any more conversations than he had to. He’d just sat down on the fixed, circular seat in the middle of the room to take off his gear when Lyse walked in.   
“Need help?” she asked.   
He shook his head, reaching for the ties that kept the prosthetic on. He pulled it free and set it down beside him, massaging where the straps often dug into his lower thigh.   
“No, I mean,” she gestured over her shoulder to the medbay across the hall.   
He swallowed. “I don’t-”   
“But you should.”   
He shook his head, his resolve beginning to falter at the thought.   
“Lyse, I made the decision-”   
“To keep a picture of her.”   
“I-”   
“Had so many questions about her when she left.”   
“But that-”   
“Means you still care, you never stopped hoping.”   
“Please don’t-”   
“Shut up.” She grabbed him under his arms and pulled him up onto his good leg. He staggered and fell into her.   
“Hey, wait!” he said, struggling to grab his crutches as they tumbled out of reach.   
“Come on,” she got in front of him and wrapped his arms around her neck, took his legs in each arm, and hoisted him onto her back. 

Teika took a deep breath before he descended the ladder, knowing he’d have to pass by the medbay again to get to the bunks. He wondered to himself what weird position he might find Lyse sleeping in if she was sleeping at all. A part of him wasn’t sure he’d be able to. Took him a long time to sleep after he lost his brothers. Still, a part of him was ready for this because of his loss. He decided to lean on that as he passed by the medbay… but then he saw Lyse out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting at the foot of Jecho’s bed, chin resting on her knuckles. He swallowed, fighting with himself to put one foot in front of the other and enter the bunk room. She looked over at him and nodded towards the other end of the bed. He hesitated. She nodded again. He sighed, but steeled himself and reentered the medbay. As he did, and looked in the direction Lyse was indicating, he saw Noga’n fast asleep with his head in the crook of his left arm and his right hand holding Jecho’s left.   
“Shit,” he breathed, leaning against the doorframe as his eyes began to sting.   
Lyse put a finger over her mouth; they sat in silence for a good while permuted by a few snores from Noga’n and the occasional one from Fent across the hall. Eventually, the ambient sounds of the ship faded away under the pressure of both Teika and Lyse’s internal dialogues. The former was struggling to make peace with his feelings while knowing it would take him time; the latter wasn’t unsure of her ability to forget, but-  
“It’s not your fault,” Teika said, finally finding his voice somewhere in between the memory of finding Jecho’s body and the last time he saw her smile.   
Lyse shook her head, “I’m not so sure.”   
“You didn’t do this.”   
She sighed, “I know.”   
“But?”   
“But,” she leaned back in the metal chair and crossed her arms against her chest, “I am the only one who got to say goodbye.”   
Teika didn’t reply, instead bracing as Falstra pulled away from the Meso’a freighter and entered the nearest hyperlane for the return to Ordo…


End file.
